secrets & lies
by tatty ted
Summary: AU. When Detective Chief Inspector Roisin Connor is killed, the coroner delivers a verdict of accidental death. One person who isn't convinced is her fifteen year old daughter Bailey Barnes who enlists the help of DI Pat North to discover the truth. Only its clear from the start, that someone doesn't want the truth coming to light. - —Pat/OC.
1. PROLOGUE

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**secrets and lies**  
_until you learn to love yourself._

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The street is near enough empty except for the group of teenagers hanging around on the corner. They're revving the engine of the small Cleo, drinking cans of Carling. On the opposite side of the street, the shadow of a girl makes her way past the teenagers, dressed in an inappropriate manner.

As soon as the group, no older than fifteen, catch sight of the girl, they start whistling and shouting obscene comments at her.

She carries on walking, ignoring the comments. She reaches the outside of a house and stops, staring at the overgrown garden. As she looks around, her eyes rest on the boys once again, aware that this may be the last time she sees the outside world.

/

A silhouette of a person is seeing running through town, a trial of blood left in her wake. She comes to a house on a posh estate, takes a deep breath and knocks on the door. As she takes a step back, she wonders if she's doing the right thing.

/

The boys revving their engine hear a scream just after ten. Only young, too young to be driving and drinking, scarper quickly. The screech of the Cleo's tyres are the last thing to residents of the street hear before the sound of sirens.

/

The door unlocks, a middle aged woman appears at the door. She takes one look at the stranger and asks;

"Can I help you?"

The girl nods, "Are you Pat North?"

The middle aged woman nods, still puzzled by the stranger on her doorstep. Before she has chance to ask the girl who she is, the girl answers;

"I have some information regarding Michael Walker."

The woman allows the girl into her home, intrigued by the stranger and how she knows about Michael Walker.

/

On the other side of town, a team of off-duty police officers raid a house they believe to be used as a brothel. Inside, the police find blood on the walls, a river of blood leading from room to room and the body of a teenager.

The body is in a terrible state, battered and bloodied.

The officer doesn't have to look at the body to know they're dead. A routine raid had just turned into a murder injury.

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**jottings —** this has got to be the weirdest prologue ever written.


	2. CHAPTER I

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**CHAPTER ONE**.  
_so raise the bar, hit me hard._

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"Who are you?" Pat asks. There's a girl, no older than fifteen in her living room. How she found Pat and why are the two questions Pat wants to know the answers too. She thought she'd put all the dodgy business of Michael Walker behind her.

Evidently not.

"My name is un-important, as is where I've come from. The only thing that's important is that I have some information on Detective Chief Superintendent Michael Walker and I want you to help me."

"What makes you think I can help you?"

The girl laughs and brushes a loose curl behind her ear; "I believe you worked with Michael Walker for several years? You were not only his Detective Inspector but you were also his fiancée, am I correct?"

Pat nods and still doesn't understand what this girl wants from her. The girl continues; "Therefore you know exactly what kind of person he is, what makes him tick? You're the best person to ask about his _violent _record, correct?"

Pat nods again, "How can I help you?"

"My mother." The girl takes an envelope out of her pocket and hands it to Pat, "Detective Chief Inspector Roisin Connor died approximately three weeks ago. The coronor stated that my mother's death was an accident. I believe Michael Walker killed my mother and covered up her death."

"What makes you think Michael had anything to do with it?"

The girl fiddles with her thumb nail for a second before she answers; "One thing my mother always mentioned about Michael Walker was that he had friend's in high places. He was known to be a dirty cop, not necessarily bent but dirty none the less. If he wanted to cover up a death, he'd be able to do it without anyone questioning it."

She tears open the envelope and looks at the coronor's report; "How did you—"

"How I obtained a copy of the coronor's report isn't necessary, turn to page three. The coronor clearly states in his report that there were bruises on the top of my mother's arms, almost as though there was a struggle. Would you not say the same thing Detective Inspector?"

In the report the coronor clearly states that Roisin Connor's death was an accident. However, there were several indications that a struggle had taken place before Roisin died. There were bruises on the top of her arms and several of her nails had been torn off.

"Judging by your mother's injuries, yes I'd say a struggle had taken place."

"The coronor didn't take that into consideration. He claimed that my mother had fallen down the stairs whilst drunk. Her blood alcohol level was three times the legal driving limit but he couldn't come up with any explaination of how she'd recieved her injuries."

"You believe Michael paid the coronor to deliver a verdict of Accidental Death?"

"I believe there's a lot more to my mother's death than meets the eye." She smiles softly, "I'm not saying Michael Walker is linked with my mother's death but I'm not saying he isn't either. There's a case to investigate, maybe manslaughter if not murder. I want you to help me uncover the truth."

Pat looks at the young girl and sighs. She isn't sure if she wants to get involved with Michael Walker again but the young girl's pain is clear. There _is_ a lot to investigate and Pat knew first hand what kind of criminal Michael Walker is.

"I'll help you but do I not get to know your name?"

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**jottings** — doesn't really focus on the plot of the prostitute much, that's more of a subplot. if you like it enough to favourite/alert, please leave a review:3


	3. CHAPTER II

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**CHAPTER TWO**.  
_i know you're trouble._

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"My name?" There's a pause before she fiddles with her fingers, "I'm Bailey, Bailey Barnes."

There's nothing exchanged between the two, they only make eye contact which Bailey breaks to look around the living room. She notes that the living room is bare, well not bare but not very filled either. There's not any photographs of family members on the walls and she wonders why.

She stands up, smiles at the woman again and apologises; "I best be going before my father discovers I'm missing. Do you have a pen and piece of paper? I'll write down my contact details so you'll know how to contact me, if you have any news."

Pat hands Bailey a piece of paper and the girl proceeds to scribble her name and number down on the paper. Then with a smile and a goodbye, she leaves. As Pat closes the door, she frowns. This girl and this case, it seemed weird.

Still she agreed to help and she would, she'd stick to her word.

/

Bailey slowly walked down the street, hood up protecting herself from the cold night wind. She didn't know what had possessed her to contact Pat North, the woman now a Detective Inspector for another force was the only woman Bailey could vaguely remember growing up.

She knew, deep down there was a lot more to her mother's death than anyone realised. Her mother wasn't drunk that night, well not much. Yes, she'd had two glasses of wine with her evening meal but Roisin wasn't the type to be drunk easily. Bailey never saw her mother drunk.

It smelt too fishy, too corupt for Bailey's liking.

She reached the corner, humming the tune of a song underneath her breath when she felt someone grab the top of her arm. Her initial reaction was to scream, to shout, to fight back but she couldn't as someone punched her in the face, knocking her to the floor.

/

Bailey came round in a hospital. She doesn't remember how she got there, or what happened but the Doctor explains she's suffered a couple of broken ribs, mild concussion and a few cuts and bruises.

"Do you know what happened?"

She shakes her head. She hadn't a clue, all she remembers is heading down an alley and being attacked. She can't help but think it's connected to her mother's death. Is it really a coincidence that the day she gets Pat North to help re-investigate her mother's death she gets attacked?

"If someone did this to you, they need to be caught."

Bailey laughed; "I'll let you in on a little secret shall I? The people who did this probably work for the police, there's no point getting them involved. I mean, if they can kill one of their own and cover it up, they're going to get out of this aren't they?"

She's discharged after noon with the warning of "if she gets a headache, go back to a&e." She rolls her eyes and nods her head and leaves the hospital. She walks along the pavement, skipping a little, wondering why she feels happy when she's got no answers whatsoever.

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**jottings** — if you like it enough to favourite/alert, please leave a review:3


	4. CHAPTER III

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**CHAPTER THREE.**  
_you're worth the pain._

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She's sat on a wall in the middle of town, kicking her legs backwards and forwards sipping on a strawberry milkshake. She knows she should really go home but she can't, her father will only question where she's been and she can't be arsed with the agro.

Saying she stayed at a friend's wouldn't cut it, he'd be convinced she'd be doing something illegal.

There's a vibration in her pocket and she pulls out her mobile phone. She rules out a robbery, if someone wanted to rob her, they'd take her phone and money right? It _must_ be what she said to the Doctor, the police were behind her. They had to be, she didn't believe in coincidences.

She accepts the call despite not recognising the number and presses the phone to her ear; "Hello?"

_"Hello is that Bailey?"_

"Who's asking?"

_"It's Pat North, is there anyway we can meet? I've got some questions to ask."_

They agree to meet in a cafe nearby, the same cafe Bailey hadn't long been to herself. She orders a coffee and another milkshake for herself and takes them to a corner table by the window, staring out into space, wondering what kind of questions, she'll be asked.

Pat arrives not long after Bailey orders the coffee and milkshake and sits down opposite her.

"Was there anything different about your mother on the day she died?"

Bailey shakes her head, "Nothing that I can remember."

"Talk me through what happened that day."

Bailey takes a sip of her milkshake and begins to talk; "I got home for about half past six, I'd been to football practice after school. There wasn't anything different about the house until I got inside. Oh there was, my mother's car wasn't on the drive, that's why I presumed she wasn't home."

"Did they ever find the car?"

"Yeah it was at the station which suggests she got a lift of someone but neither DC West, DS Satchell or DCS Walker said they hadn't given her one. When I got into the house, my mother was at the bottom of the stairs. She was cold but not _that_ cold so I narrowed her death down to half four to five."

"Why that time?"

Bailey takes out her mobile phone out of her pocket, scrolls through her messages and comes to the final message her mother ever sent her. She slides her phone across to Pat, "My mother's final message was sent at twenty-five past four. She died sometime after this message."

Pat looks at the phone then slides it back to her, "Then what happened?"

"I should've called the police but I didn't. I went into the kitchen to find a bottle of wine and two glasses on the table. The bottle was half empty and on one of the wine glasses there was red lipstick around the rim. My mother wasn't wearing lipstick so it wasn't my mother's glass but no fingerprints were found on the glass."

"So you think she was drinking with someone?"

"Yes. I think whoever gave her a lift home, she invited in for a couple of drinks. I found another wine bottle in the bin, it was the same make as the one inside. Now the only fingerprints on the bottle were my mother's, whoever killed her wiped away all evidence of them ever being there."

"Except the glass."

"Maybe the person she was drinking with didn't kill her, hence the reason they left their lipstick on the glass. Either way, I don't believe it was a female who killed her, I don't think another female would have the courage unless it really was an accident."

"But you're not convinced?" Pat picked up her coffee cup, took a sip and placed it back down on the table. She looked at the young girl and wondered why she was so adament to hold someone responsible, it could've been an accident for all Bailey knew.

"I'll never be convinced it was an accident," Bailey smiled softly; "Things don't add up. I took my mother's diary, I know I shouldn't have but me and my mother _never_ had secrets. I knew what was written in her diary and vice verca."

"Do you still have the diary?"

Bailey nods, "Of course, would you like it? It's written in code but I can translate it for you? We always wrote our secrets in code, nobody would understand if our diaries suddenly went missing. The only page I can't translate is the day before she died, I don't know why but I'll try and attempt to break it."

Bailey and Pat agree to meet this evening at Pat's with the diary. She smiles and embraces the older woman into a hug as she walks away from the cafe, unaware that somebody's watching, listening to her conversations ensuring that her mother's killer will never be caught.

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**jottings** — if you like it enough to favourite/alert, please leave a review:3


	5. CHAPTER IV

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**CHAPTER FOUR**.  
_you've got the love i need._

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She gets home, shoves the diary in her handbag and falls asleep on the settee with the teddy she can't bare to be without. She only wants to be asleep for an hour or two, just enough to recharge her batteries and so she can spend all night trying to break the code in her mother's diary.

She's woken up by the sound of the smoke alarms blaring and she rubs her eyes, the house filled with smoke. She's confused, coughing the smoke and knows that someone is trying to kill her and stop her uncovering the truth off her mother's death.

She goes to the only place she knows she's safe, the woman she's only known for a couple of days. Bailey ends up on her doorstep, freezing cold, her wet clothes stuck to her. The first thing she says when the door opens is;

"I think someone's trying to kill me."

Pat sees the young girl on her doorstep, a girl who's eyes were full of fear and sighs; "Are you sure?"

"Yesterday I was attacked, today someone set fire to my house. I believe in coincidences but I don't believe this to be one."

She's invited into the house, given a cup of tea and told to talk. She takes out her mother's diary and places it on the coffee table. The diary, it's black with a lock but Bailey's had no choice but to bust the lock, it was the only way to get into it.

"The diary," she begins and turns to the final entry, "I think I've discovered what happened the day my mother died."

"Go on."

She pauses, "My mother _was_ wearing lipstick the day she died, hence the lipstick on the glass. She'd been meeting someone, a Martin Wicks from Vice. She wrote in her diary that they had something important to discuss. The diary entry was written at four, fifteen that day."

"You believe Martin Wicks killed your mother?"

She nods, "But why I have no idea."

Pat stands up and walks into the hallway. There she dials a familiar number and talks to someone. Bailey sits by the window, staring outside wondering if she's on the right path, if Martin Wicks was the killer, her mother would be able to rest in peace.

She doesn't know how long she's there but it's hours. Her cup of tea's gone cold on the table and there's a rim of tea around the mug on the coffee table. She's about to pick it up and put it on a coster when Pat appears at the door.

Bailey makes eye contact with Pat and she nods, "Martin Wicks confessed, he did kill your mother."

At that minute Bailey feels relieved, like the whole worlds been lifted off her shoulders. She found her mother's killer, _she did_ and despite being "warned" off in certain ways, she carried on because she knew there wasn't something quiet right.

"Have you ever thought of being a Detective?"

She just laughs. All Bailey's ever wanted is a drama free life, something which isn't possible when you're a Detective.

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**jottings** — epilogue is coming up, if you like it enough to favourite/alert, please leave a review:3


	6. EPILOGUE

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**EPILOGUE**.  
_she wonders why._

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They've bumped into each other down at the cemetery. Bailey's leaving a bunch of flowers and he's just come to think. It's slightly awkward between the two, she had after all accused him off murdering her mother and covering it up.

They stand next to each other, no words exchanged. Bailey glances over at him before she decides to speak (or she'll forever hold her silence)

"I'm sorry." He smiles at the young girl and shakes his head. She hasn't got anything to be sorry for, "It's okay."

"No it's not!" She sighs, "I shouldn't have accused you, looking back it seems silly, you loved my mother so why would you hurt her?"

He looks at the grave and nods. He _did_ love her and he'd kill anyone who'd hurt her. He smiles slightly and looks back at Bailey, the woman, the girl who's a picture image of her mother, "You'll stay in touch won't you?"

Bailey looks at Michael and laughs; "I'll try too."

"She'll want me to look after you, you know."

Bailey laughs and looks at the grave then back at him, "Yeah she would but I'm a big girl, I can look after myself. There's not many fifteen year old who can solve their mother's murder, survive a fire and an attack is there?"

"No but—"

She cuts him off with a sly smile; "I'm sure we'll meet again DCS Walker." She slowly walks away from the grave, wondering what her mother's going to think about her new found attitude. She was, when Roisin died a quiet considerate teenager.

But not anymore; her mother's death had shaped her personality.

She was untouchable or so she hoped.

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**jottings** — originally this was meant to focus on two stories, the story involving bailey and her mother and the murdered prostitute, however my muse took it somewhere different. the prologue is weird because it was the original, and i wasn't going to change it.

if you like it enough to favourite, please leave a review. thanks to everyone who reviewed/read/alerted, everything means the world. sorry if the characters are out of character but its been a while since i wrote for trial&retribution:3


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